


your love is

by thisissirius



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Comfort Sex, M/M, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: Aaron sees it because he’s looking for it; there’s been something off with Robert all day, a quietness to him that might be startling, but Aaron knows why it’s there. 
aaron comforts robert the way he knows best.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imaginentertain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginentertain/gifts).



> this was written because imaginentertain and i were discussing robert and his feelings about his ~body~ and i couldn't resist. basically just aaron trying to comfort robert with sex. 
> 
> (i'm not sure about my sex writing skills SO)
> 
> enjoy???

Aaron sees it because he’s looking for it; there’s been something off with Robert all day, a quietness to him that might be startling, but Aaron knows why it’s there.

 

 

 

When he wakes, legs tangled with Robert’s, Robert’s face pressed to his neck, Aaron takes a moment to just let himself breathe. He thinks of the funeral immediately, sees their suits pressed and hanging on the back of the door. Robert’s breathing slow and even, still asleep, and Aaron runs a hand through his hair, kisses his temple. It’s soft enough that Robert doesn’t stir. Usually it’s Robert that wakes first, draws Aaron out of sleep with a kiss, a touch, something more. Aaron’s content to let Robert sleep; he’s had precious little the past week and there are dark smudges under his eyes, a sluggishness to the way he moves that Aaron sees despite Robert’s attempts to hide it.

The sun crests over the tops of the houses opposite the pub, shining through the gap in the curtain and spilling light onto the bed. Aaron runs a thumb over Robert’s eyebrow, the scar that puckers the skin. A remnant of his own from the crash, and while Aaron’s always going to prefer they not have permanent reminders of how close they came to — _to that_ — he can’t deny that Robert’s the more attractive for it.

Eventually Robert stirs, breath hitching as his fingers slide across Aaron’s chest. The ring glints in the sun and Aaron’s chest tightens with happiness. He still can’t believe it’s real, that they’re engaged.

“Hey,” he says, as Robert blinks sleepily. Brushing his fingers through Robert’s hair, Aaron kisses the corner of his mouth, noses at his temple. He’s affectionate here, in their bed. He feels comfortable here, relaxed and open in ways he never is in public. Robert’s not something he wants to share, not with anyone, not _this_ Robert. The Robert who’s still half asleep, who touches Aaron softly and reverently like _he_ can’t believe he gets this. The Robert who stretches, fingertips brushing the headboard and body arched in delicious ways. Aaron brushes his fingers over Robert’s stomach, wants him the same way he always does.

Robert smiles. Not the one that’s all teeth and charm that he throws out when someone gets too close. This smile is soft and Aaron’s, private and personal. “Don’t start something we can’t finish.”

Aaron closes his eyes. He hates funerals, the few he’s been to have been formative in parts of himself he’s trying to overcome, but this one is different. Not because he didn’t care for James — though it would be a lie if he said he _did_ — but because it could so easily have been him.

Robert’s watching his face carefully, and there’s a shadow to his own eyes as he leans in, brushes a kiss to Aaron’s jaw. “Come on. Better get ready.”

 

 

 

 

 Liv lingers at breakfast, talking just the wrong side of too much.

Aaron answers where he can, rolls his eyes affectionately and shares conspiratorial looks with Robert. There’s a tinge of sadness to the meal, Liv’s chair pressed so close to Robert’s they’re almost touching. Robert’s oblivious, picking at his toast, inhaling his tea in seconds, and staring at the same column in the paper the entire time.

“I’ll see you later?” Liv asks before she leaves, grabbing her bag from the sofa. She looks at Robert then Aaron, brows furrowed.

Robert blinks. “Want me to pick you up?”

Aaron’s not sure where the offer comes from; Robert’s not been in his car since the day of the crash, and Robert’s brain seems to catch up a second later, his mouth twitching downward.

“Nah, I’m getting the bus home with Gabby,” Liv says, and Aaron’s never been more thankful. She tosses her braid over her shoulder. “Try not to upset anyone today.”

“Likewise,” Robert tells her, a shadow of his former smile on his face. “Text me what you want for dinner.”

“Tea,” Liv and Aaron say simultaneously.

Robert pulls a face and stares back down at the paper. The moment broken, Liv says, “Bye,” and disappears out the door. Aaron lets silence fall as he stares at the curve of Robert’s jaw, the way his fingers slide against the paper.

“You ready?” Aaron asks, because he can’t take that day from them, can’t make this easier.

“No,” Robert says honestly, startling them both. He falters. “Come on.”

 

 

 

 

It’s raining.

Beside Aaron, Robert sags a little, breath quick. He’s staring down at the coffin, at the plaque and Aaron knows what he’s thinking; _Aaron Dingle_. It’s a thought he’s trying to avoid, and settles for taking Robert’s hand, squeezing gently. Robert lets out a breath, eyes flicking to Aaron’s face. Aaron smiles because they’re lucky, because they’re still alive, and he needs Robert to hear it. For one moment he thinks it works — sees his mum smile too — but then Robert’s eyes drop back to the grave and his hand shakes in Aaron’s.

When everyone else peels away, heading back for the pub, Aaron feels torn; he wants to be there for Adam, but he needs — _wants_ — Robert too.

“Go,” Robert says, giving Aaron’s hand one last squeeze. He gestures over his shoulder, to where Vic and Diane are hovering, and Aaron gets it.

“You sure?”

Robert nods. “I’ll see you in five.”

Aaron watches him walk away, hands in his pockets. Vic threads an arm through Robert’s and he pulls her close, Diane on his other side as the three of them walk deeper into the graveyard. Aaron lets out a breath, aches for Robert in a way that comes from days spent too close, but he shakes it off. His mum’s waiting with a smile, and Aaron lets her hug him, her hold tight. He sinks into it, shakes with the force of having to stand that little bit straighter.

On the way back to the pub, his mum taps his arm. “He’s not expecting you to be strong.”

Aaron says nothing; not expecting it, maybe, but that doesn’t mean Robert’s not asking for it in his own way. “Mum—”

“I’m not judging, love,” his mum says gently. “You’re allowed to let go.”

“I’m fine.” The look his mum gives him makes his cheeks hot. He looks away from her, back towards the village. It’s not a lie; he feels fine. Stretched, the same way he was after Jackson, but it’s different this time. He tries to imagine how he would feel if it were Robert. He doesn’t remember the car, not much, but he can see the truth of it in Robert’s eyes, in Robert’s refusal to spend more than five minutes in the shower. “I’ll _be_ fine.”

“So will he,” his mum replies, so firmly that Aaron lets himself believe it.

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron’s glass is mostly empty, Robert’s barely touched, when Aaron breaks whatever fragile barrier they have between them. He drags Robert through the back, up into their room. His mum’s promised to pick up Liv, the funeral is done, they have time to just be _them_. Robert sinks onto the bed, breath leaving in a rush.

“Hey,” Aaron says, standing in front of him.

Robert’s hands come to rest on Aaron’s hips, his head drops forward to rest on Aaron’s stomach, just shy of Aaron’s injury. “You’re alright?”

Aaron threads his fingers in Robert’s hair, brushes the strands once, twice. “Yeah. You?”

Robert nods, head shifting against Aaron’s hand. His fingers twitch against Aaron’s hip. “I want—”

“What?” Aaron asks. He knows he’ll give it, if he can, because it’s what they do. 

“You.” Robert pulls back, his eyes dark, as he licks his bottom lip. They’ve touched skin to skin, at night when they want nothing between them, but neither of them have taken it that one step further, a touch that starts the fire. “Aaron.”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, leaning down for a kiss. It’s soft, sure, but Robert’s fingers tighten on Aaron’s hips as he draws it out. Aaron’s fingers slide Robert’s tie out from under his collar, undoes the knot with practiced ease. Robert buries his face in Aaron’s neck as Aaron undoes the buttons on his waistcoat.

Aaron almost doesn’t want to take it off. Robert looks good like this — looks good all the time when he isn’t decked out in floral print — but he looks better laid out naked on the bed, arching deliciously with every stroke of Aaron’s fingers. _Soon_.

“Come on,” Aaron says, slapping Robert’s thigh gently.

Robert’s quiet as he undresses, and Aaron can’t help drinking him in. When Robert sheds his jacket, Aaron follows the line of his back filling out his shirt, the roll of his shoulders as he starts to unbutton it. Robert catches him looking, raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

Aaron makes a face, pretends for a beat that he’s not going to do anything. There’s a sudden darkening of Robert’s eyes, which Aaron files away for future consideration, but Aaron pulls off his own jacket, hangs it on the back of the chair. He tugs his shirt out of his trousers, stalls as Robert bends to tug off his shoes, the curve of his backside makes Aaron’s dick fill. He steps forward, slides a hand around the front of Robert’s trousers, cups him gently as his own dick presses hard against Robert’s arse.

Robert lets out a strangled moan, straightens slowly, shuddering at the drag of Aaron’s dick against him. Aaron loves watching him come apart, the way he’ll sink into Aaron’s touch. It’s the softness that gets to him the most; they know each other so well, inside and out, and Aaron’s learned that hard gets Robert off fast, but soft and reverent makes Robert pliant, pulls him apart slowly, shows him best that Aaron loves him, wants him.

Unbuttoning Robert’s trousers, Aaron sinks his teeth into the juncture of Robert’s neck, draws blood to the surface of the skin. Robert’s hips roll into Aaron’s grip as he pants and swallows hard.

Shoving the trousers over Robert’s hips, Aaron lets them fall to the floor. There’s no mistaking how hard Robert is, dick straining against the fabric of his briefs. He turns his head, chases Aaron’s mouth with his own. It’s awkward to kiss that way, worse because Aaron slips his hand into Robert’s pants, runs callused fingers against the curve of Robert’s dick.

Robert’s breath is punched from his chest and he whines low in his throat. It’s accidental, but those are the best kinds of noises, the ones he has no control over.

“Get on the bed,” Aaron growls out, pulling his hand back.

Robert moves forward, sluggish, and drops forward onto the bed. Through his lust, the _want_ , Aaron’s concerned with how pliant he is. Robert’s never like this in bed, bites back as much as gives in, but it’s this day, everything they’ve been through. Aaron’s going to draw _his_ Robert out, even if it takes all afternoon.

Robert stretches languidly on his front, hips stuttering against the sheets. He’s freckled all over, a small patch at the base of his back, a smattering against the curve of his hip. Naked, Aaron drags his fingers over them, touch feather-light, and smiles as Robert shudders, hips dragging slow against the mattress.

“ _Aaron_ ,” demanding, but barely the Robert he’s used to.

Aaron hums, refuses to indulge, kneels on the bed between Robert’s calves. He takes his time, wraps his fingers around Robert’s ankle and digs his thumb into the bone. Robert jumps then groans, hands fisting in the sheets. Aaron knows every part of Robert’s body as well as he knows his own; he’s taken his time, learned where to press to make Robert shudder, groan, _come_. If he touches the spot behind Robert’s knee _just so,_ Robert pants, breath quick. If he rubs his thumb along the dip of Robert’s back, Robert thrusts his hips against the bed. If Aaron bites at the nape of Robert’s neck, Robert curses.

“Up,” Aaron says, hands on Robert’s hips. Robert complies, lifting his hips enough for Aaron to pull his briefs down. Dick free, Robert groans, and Aaron reaches under his body, strokes Robert once, twice.

“Aaron,” Robert groans, fucking himself in Aaron’s grip. “Fuck.”

“Soon,” Aaron says, lips twitching. He pulls the briefs off the rest of the way, tosses them on the floor. Robert hasn’t moved, arms straining with the effort to keep himself up. Aaron’s dick leaks at the sight; next time he’ll tell Robert not to move, to _wait._ Not now.

Now, he presses a hand to the base of Robert’s back, relishing the shudder as he guides Robert back to the bed. Aaron fumbles for the lube and condoms in the drawer, drops them on the bed next to Robert’s thigh. Leaning down, mouth close to Robert’s ear, Aaron pops the cap of the lube.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” Aaron says, squirting a generous amount on his palm. He warms it, breathes heavy on Robert’s cheek. Robert’s eyes are half-lidded, his hips stuttering once, twice against the bed. He’s still quiet, though Aaron knows he’s desperate for it.

Pulling back only enough to drizzle some lube between the cheeks of Robert’s arse, watching it pool on the sheets, Aaron drags his fingers through the mess, presses behind Robert’s balls and strokes the lube up. Robert’s hole clenches, eager, and Aaron doesn’t know how he hasn’t just fucked Robert into the mattress already; it’s taking every ounce of patience he has to wait.

“ _Aaron_ ,” Robert’s voice is breathless, his dick must be dragging _just perfect_ against the bed. “Aaron.”

“Alright,” Aaron agrees, compliant as he presses a finger into Robert, slow and torturous. It’s been too long, Robert’s tight and unyielding, but as he breathes slow, his muscles seem to relax bit by bit. Eventually Aaron sinks to the knuckle. “Breathe.”

“Fuck,” Robert grunts.

“I am.” Aaron smirks, though Robert can’t see it. Pulling back, Aaron adds a second finger and thrusts until Robert feels loose, slides three fingers past the puckered ring until Robert’s body sags against the bed. Finally, the quietness that’s been hanging over them all day seems to fade with Robert’s moans and whines as he thrusts back against Aaron’s hand.

 _I_ _’m here_ , Aaron tells him, as he curls his fingers.

 _I_ _’m alive_ , he says, brushing that all too familiar bundle of nerves.

 _We_ _’re both alright, lets fucking do this,_ he says out loud, because he doesn’t want to tiptoe around this anymore. He needs Robert, _his_ Robert.

Robert hears him. His eyes snap open as he peers back over his shoulder. They’re dark with want, and he bears down against Aaron’s fingers “Fuck me,” he growls, knuckles white against the bed sheets. “Aaron, fuck, get on with it.”

It’s the most verbal he’s been in a while, and _there_ _’s_ the Robert he knows, loves. It’s in the way he looks, the way he thrusts against the sheets. He’s desperate for it, thighs shaking, his head tossed back.

“You want it?” Aaron asks, because he can, because Robert’s not gonna break, not now.

“Fuck yes.” Robert groans as Aaron caresses those same nerves, over and over until Robert’s non-verbal, eyes wide, dragging his dick against the sheets like he can’t get enough.

“Maybe I’ll keep you here,” Aaron says, because he’s still thinking about it, about Robert staying still because Aaron’s asked it of him. “Just keep you on the edge like this.”

Robert gasps, a deep lungful, and his eyes narrow. “I swear I’ll—”

Aaron twists his fingers, feels a thrill of pleasure and triumph at the way Robert melts, at the moan he lets out.

“I need—” Robert cuts himself off, takes deep breaths as Aaron presses hard against his prostate, curls his fingers enough that Robert’s dick is creating a wet spot neither of them is going to want to sleep on. “Fuck me, fuck me, come _on_.”

Aaron complies, because his own dick is leaking precum against his stomach, down his thigh. He pulls his fingers out, watches Robert’s hole flutter, his hips thrust back. Rolling on a condom and slicking up his dick, Aaron settles his body over Robert’s, aligning in ways that send thrills up Aaron’s back, makes his hips roll downward, sliding _just so_ against Robert’s arse. Robert stretches up, Aaron’s dick nestled between his cheeks.

“If you don’t fuck me soon,” Robert says, the threat hanging between them. Aaron guides his dick, watches Robert’s hole swallow the head, greedy. It’s tight, hot and delicious, and Aaron can’t help small, little thrusts. “Do it.”

Aaron doesn’t, but only because he knows Robert. He always wants to go fast, wants Aaron _then and there_ and pays for it the morning after. Instead, Aaron takes it slow, eases in gently, his hands on Robert’s hips. Robert strains against the bed, back arched, cheek resting against the pillow. He’s panting, grips his dick.

“Let go,” Aaron snaps. It takes effort to stop moving, however much he wants to sink balls deep into Robert. Robert doesn’t listen, strokes his dick until Aaron slaps his wrist away, digs his nails into the flesh of Robert’s forearm. “Let _go_.”

Robert cusses him out but obediently pulls back. He drops his hips to the bed and it’s the kind of friction Aaron’s willing to allow. “Aaron, come on.”

Aaron doesn’t answer, but rolls his hips slowly.

“Yeah,” Robert breathes.

Aaron pulls back, thrusts in hard. Robert grunts, shudders, as Aaron picks up a pace. He digs his fingers into the meat of Robert’s hips, feels the stretch and burn against his stomach, knows it’s close to his injury, but it’s been too long. He needs Robert as much as he needs Robert to have this.

“Fuck, I love you,” Robert says, thrusting back against Aaron. His hand starts to shift back beneath him.

“If you touch yourself,” Aaron grunts out between thrusts, “I’ll not fuck you for a week.”

“Liar,” Robert says, but his hand stops moving. “You can’t last any longer than me.”

“Can’t I?” Aaron says, breathless. He steps up the pace, thrusts hard enough that Robert shifts up the bed.

“Fuck, _fuck_.” Robert reaches up and back, threads his fingers in Aaron’s hair. He grips hard, letting out soft _ungh, ungh, ungh_ noises. “I need to—”

Aaron leans down, bites at Robert’s neck. He knows what Robert’s asking for. “No.”

“Aaron, I can’t—”

“You can,” Aaron says. He wants to watch Robert fall apart without a hand touching his dick. “Come on, Rob, come on.”

Robert lets out a strangled groan, rolls his hips back against every thrust. There’s sweat matting his hair to his forehead, his spine curves deliciously against Aaron’s chest, and his shoulders ripple as he clenches his fists tighter in the sheets.

Aaron shifts his hips, changes the angle slightly to drag against Robert’s prostate. Robert tenses beneath him, grunting, shuddering gently. Aaron grins, kisses Robert’s neck and keeps the angle. “That’s it.”

Robert’s moans turn into slurs of Aaron’s name, his fingers sliding recklessly against the sheets. Aaron loves this part of Robert best, no motor control, lost in pleasure; Aaron’s done this, taken him there. Aaron noses at Robert’s temple, can’t stop staring at Robert’s unfocused eyes, the pink curve of his mouth, the freckles dusting his nose. Aaron shifts his hands up to Robert’s sides, drags his fingernails lightly against skin. Robert tenses, hips jerking back to meet Aaron’s; he whines, long and low, as he comes.

Robert clenches against Aaron’s dick, hand sliding against the back of Aaron’s hand. “Mmmfuck.”

It doesn’t take long, just a thrust or two, and Aaron holds himself still, relishes the feel of Robert around him, touching him, hot beneath him.

“I love you,” Robert says again, exhausted, his eyes closed.

Aaron tenses all over. Robert says it so casually, so _gently._ Aaron’s nails dig hard into Robert’s hips as he comes.

 

 

 

 

Aaron’s legs feel like lead, but he forces himself to the bathroom, making sure there’s nobody in the hall. He grabs a flannel from the bathroom and cleans himself up. When he gets back to the room, Robert’s still stretched out on the bed, chest rising and falling gently. Aaron’s struck then, with how close he came to losing this; he can’t imagine not having Robert, not after it’s taken them so long.

He kneels on the edge of the bed, shuffles forward and brushes his fingers against Robert’s cheek. Robert stirs, grins softly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Aaron says, and cleans Robert up gently. He can’t help himself, cups Robert’s balls as he drags the flannel along his soft dick. Robert sucks in a breath, shifts his hips away from the touches.

“Fuck off,” Robert says, without heat. Aaron swipes once more, watches hungrily as Robert’s dick twitches. “You can wait.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Aaron replies, dropping the flannel on the floor. Robert shifts slowly, rolls over to face Aaron. “I did all the work.”

“Mmm.” Robert’s non-committal. His eyes flick from Aaron’s face, down his body, lingering on the new scar marring his body.

Aaron cups his jaw, thumbs Robert’s bottom lip. He tugs his head up, draws his attention back to his face. Robert’s spent too long dwelling on that moment, on what might have been. Aaron leans in, kisses Robert hard, tongue sliding into hot, wet heat. When he pulls back, he noses at Robert’s cheek. “Maybe I want you to fuck me.”

There’s a look in Robert’s eyes, heat and _want_. “Maybe I will.” There’s a pause as Robert brushes a hand through Aaron’s hair. “Sleep first?”

“You actually going to sleep?”

Robert nods, eyes already dropping closed. His hand keeps moving, though, so Aaron knows he’s still awake.

“Stop thinking about what happened,” Aaron says, because he has to, because he can’t stand this any more.

His eyes stay closed, but Robert’s hand stills. “I don’t think it’s that easy.”

“Try,” Aaron presses. “I need you, Robert.”

It takes a lot to say; Aaron drags it up from some place deep because it’s what Robert needs to hear.

Robert’s eyes snap open and he swallows. They’re both silent for a long time after that, but eventually, just before Aaron slips closer to sleep, Robert kisses him softly and continues to brush his hand through Aaron’s hair. “Yeah, okay."

It’s enough; it has to be.

**Author's Note:**

> join me on [tumblr](http://sapphicsugden.tumblr.com). :D


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